Close Proximity
by Brat in the Hat
Summary: A series of vignettes about two bots who would prefer to avoid each other, and how the universe ardently refuses to keep them apart.
1. Rodimus Magnus

Introduction: This takes place about 6-7 years after Endgame. For young/new readers unfamiliar with vignettes, they're meant to be short scenes that focus more on mood, tone, and characterization than plot. The chapters are not directly connected, but they more or less go in chronological order. Feedback is always appreciated!

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**Rodimus Magnus**

Not long ago, Sentinel had been the one inaugurated on the steps of the Metroplex; today, he stood on the sidelines for another.

He refused to dwell on how the Team Athenia leader had swiped his position as Magnus, because that wasn't even the worst part. The maroon mech had been two classes above Sentinel at the Autobot Academy, even though he'd been one class below in boot camp. Back then, he was humble, respectful, and dependable. Fell behind in class? Rodimus was more than happy to tutor. Needed a sparring partner for combat drills? Ask Rodimus, he knew the lesson inside and out. Heck, any relationship woes to get off your hood? No worries, Rodimus had oil and advice to spare. And little changed after graduation; the Academy's resident "Chosen One" remained an unflappable model Autobot to all who knew him.

And _that_ was the worst part- Sentinel himself couldn't put in a bad word against the guy. Rodimus Magnus was brilliant and more than worthy of his new title; it couldn't be more infuriating.

The blue mech was trapped there by obligation. Impeached or not, he was still the former Magnus; he was expected to attend on account of still being online. The minute Alpha Trion said the closing words, he'd be cast out and forced to restart his career. That snobbish cult of a High Council even had the nerve to remove him from the Elite Guard and put him in charge of a common squad.

So there he stood, drowning in a silent typhoon of humiliation, as Perfection Personified stole everything he'd worked for in the blink of an optic. The crowd of thousands might have worsened the agitation, but he knew they paid him no mind. He wasn't who they came to see today.

The sole consolation was that it wasn't Optimus being sworn in. Sentinel didn't think he'd be able to live that down.

One solar cycle, Sentinel would show them all. He'd rise in the ranks like before and make them regret ever snubbing him in the first place. Heck, the look on their faceplates would be more than enough, even if he never carried the Elite Guard badge again. No second-rate squad would hold him back, inadequacies be damned.

For now, he endured the embarrassment, listening to the old codger drone on about 'duty' this and 'honor' that. It took all of Sentinel's composure not to yawn in front of all in attendance.

He hadn't even gotten a chance to meet most of his new team in person, but their records were unimpressive. Nothing but rabble, the lot of them; a lackluster crew of rejects not fit to scrub the deck on their new rustbucket of a ship.

Oh.

And _her_.


	2. Promises

**Promises**

Her stomach somersaulted as the steel-plated doors parted for her entry. If what Sari longed for waited on the other side, she wasn't sure- but the mere possibility was enough for now. To think she'd be granted such a privilege by the Autobot High Council! She hadn't known what to expect when the Council first summoned her that morning, least of all the proposition they offered.

They had promised her information. Specifically, free reign to examine countless hordes of knowledge, classified or otherwise, for anything remotely connected to her origins, starting with the Ministry of Science archives. An entire wealth of history, geography, and scientific achievements, completely at her fingertips.

All she had to do was join Sentinel's new lineup, a far less appealing prospect.

Alpha Trion's words echoed back to her. "Do this, and you will have Cybertron's full databank at your disposal. You have my word."

Sari had accepted, of course. The 6 years she'd spent trying to solve the enigma had driven her to wit's end. Time after time her search led to nothing; she had chased lead after lead, and all brought her nowhere but to dead ends. The girl was exhausted by the circles she ran in, tired of not knowing who she was. Besides, she had no reason to doubt that the councilman would honor his pledge.

And sparks, honor it he did. The science guild alone had amassed a treasure trove of data that Sari began to flip through with reverence and exhilaration. Sari was a minute specimen compared to any Cybertronian, but she was certain that the sheer volume of the archives dwarfed even Optimus. Computer screens ran all along the walls, with great piles of datapads stacked and organized by size below them. Yes, this would do for a good starting point.

The world outside, the looming reality that she would soon have to take orders from an organophobic blowhard, had been all but abandoned at the arching doorway. It took no time at all to get absorbed in her task, probing for the first step, the first link, the first ghost of a promise that she would finally know where she belonged.


End file.
